


Headfirst for Halos, P.I.

by behindskylines (deanlovessammymorethanpie)



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Paranormal Investigators, ghostbusters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:45:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanlovessammymorethanpie/pseuds/behindskylines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“For the last time, Gerard,” Ray sighs, because he knows, deep down, that it won’t be, “we’re not ghostbusters.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Headfirst for Halos, P.I.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted March 5, 2010 on livejournal under the name behindskylines.

“For the last time, Gerard,” Ray sighs, because he knows, deep down, that it won’t be, “we’re not _ghostbusters_.”

Mikey tries to cover his snort, but fails miserably.

“We’re _paranormal investigators_.” 

“Yeah, but. Ray, you have to admit. Ghostbusters just sounds cooler.” Gerard smiles, showing off the bottom row of his tiny teeth.

Ray bites on his lower lip, not wanting to smile.

“Why do you even let him in the door?” Bob asks from the back room, where the sounds of duct tape and metal on tile can be heard.

Shaking his head, Ray yells back, “Sometimes, he can be funny.”

Gerard grins, and opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by the phone ringing. Ray holds up a finger and lifts the receiver.

“Headfirst for Halos, Paranormal Investigation. This is Ray Toro, how can we help you?”

Turning to Mikey, Gerard raises his eyebrows, asking a silent question. Mikey nods, and Gerard turns, heading toward the small kitchen off of the front office. Their headquarters is the bottom floor of an old house that had been divided and sold off in bits during the Depression. It had fallen into disrepair and was actually haunted itself when they had moved in over two years ago. The landlord was so grateful for their help removing the ghost that he agreed to freeze their rent amazingly low, considering the house’s location on the fringes of old downtown. 

Gerard slides the coffee carafe out of the machine and divides the remains of the pot between the two mugs sitting on the table, adds a splash of milk and a spoonful of sugar to one, and two spoonfuls to the other. Grabbing them both with one hand, he puts the milk back in their mostly empty fridge, slides the carafe back into the machine, because Mikey has a habit of knocking them off tables, and counters, and makes his way back to the front office to find Ray hunched over his trusty yellow legal pad, pen flying across its surface. He catches the tail end of the conversation while handing Mikey his coffee.

“No problem, Mr. Iero. Animal hauntings are a speciality of ours.”

&

 

“But, why would someone even _want_ to exterminate an animal’s ghost?” Gerard asks on the drive over. “How would an animal’s ghost bother someone?”

“Why are you even here?” Bob asks from the driver’s seat, waiting for the red light on the corner of Morrison and West Thomas to turn green. “Don’t you have a job?”

“Well, yeah.” Gerard blows cigarette smoke out of the side of his mouth, watching the sunset out of the windshield. “But, I’ve never seen an animal haunting, and I’m pretty sure that, as spazzy as he is, Brendon can handle closing up the shop tonight.”

“Just as long as he doesn’t set it on fire again.”

Gerard shakes his head. “It wasn’t on fire, _per say_. It was just a small trash can flame.”

“That he didn’t notice cause his face was fused with Ryan’s.”

“But, he eventually did, right?”

Ray laughs from the passenger seat, “Yeah, only cause Mikey walked in, looking for you.” 

Mikey snorts. “You should have seen his face, absolutely priceless.”

Gerard whines, “Anyway, back to the focus of this conversation. Why would someone want to exterminate an animal’s ghost?”

“Same reason they want to exterminate a person’s ghost.” Ray answers, consulting the directions on the legal pad. “Not everyone is cool about having a ghost in their home, and there’s the possibility that, even though it’s an animal, it could be doing something harmful, or annoying, to the homeowner.” He points left at the intersection ahead, and Bob grunts his understanding.

“How could an animal’s ghost get stuck in someone’s house?”

Ray sighs the sigh of the long-suffering. “The same way any other ghost gets stuck in a house, Gee. Their soul is imprinted there, or they just don’t know that they’re dead.”

“But,” Gerard starts again, but Ray interrupts him.

“That’s the place.” Ray checks his notes, and points with one finger. They pull up to a violently red house, with a bright green door. “Mr. Iero said, ‘red house, green door’.”

Bob ducks his head to get a good look of the house out of Ray’s window. “Is he color-blind?”

Based on what little he can see out of the tinted back window, Gerard has to agree.

&

 

Mr. Iero answers the door after Bob’s brisk knock, holding the collars of two fat dogs to keep them from trying to bolt out of the door and attempting to run down the block. By the looks of them, Gerard figures they wouldn’t get very far. He gets the chance to take a look at Mr. Iero when he backs up and lets Bob through the doorway. Mr. Iero is short, with messy black hair that looks like he just got out of bed. Judging on the loose jeans hanging dangerously low on his ( _tattooed_ ) hips, and the smudged look around his bright hazel-green eyes, Gerard thinks it’s possible he did just get up. He also thinks _gorgeous_. 

Mikey nudges him in the back with his bony fucking elbow, and Gerard realizes that he’s been standing there gawking at their client, and blushes. He ducks his head, and hefts the heavy roll of extension cord higher on his shoulder before shuffling forward, embarrassed.

Ray is already discussing the haunting with Mr. Iero, who insists on being called Frank, while Gerard places his cord next to Mikey’s and rolls the name _Frank_ around his mouth, silently. 

“I’m afraid you misunderstood me on the phone earlier, Mr. Toro.”

Gerard even thinks his voice is pretty, and what the fuck.

“Please call me Ray. And how?” Ray asks.

“Well, Ray...”

And Gerard wonders if there’s any way to ask if Frank can say his name without sounding creepy.

“I’d like the cat’s ghost to stay, if at all possible.”

Ray knit his eyebrows, obviously not prepared for this.

“I like the cat, and my dogs get along with it too. I’ve even named him Angus.”

“Angus?”

“Angus Young.”

Ray laughs despite himself, and nods. “Let me talk to my crew, and see what we can do. We’ve never really exterminated just one ghost from a residence while leaving others behind.”

Frank nods, and motions toward the kitchen. “Would anyone care for some coffee?”

“Yes,” Gerard says before his brain can catch up with his mouth, and suddenly, Frank is staring at him, looking him up and down, and Gerard feels naked in his ratty black jeans and dirty Misfits shirt. He wonders briefly if there’s dirt on his Chucks, and almost checks to see if he’s tracked mud on Frank’s beige carpet. Taking a deep breath, he figures Frank wouldn’t really care, seeing as the dogs are now padding around them, smelling the bottom of jeans and shoes. Gerard clears his throat, watches as Frank’s eyes make it back up to his face. “Please?”

Frank smiles, and Gerard can feel his breath catch, and this is ridiculous. 

“Sure.”

&

 

Half an hour later, the five of them are cramped around Frank’s kitchen table, drinking coffee and snacking on these little buttery cakes Frank’s mom apparently made while discussing tactics on how to remove just one ghost, while leaving the other intact. Gerard is glad that Mikey is sitting in between himself and Frank, because he can still feel the heat of Frank’s hand where it’s resting on the table. 

“Has the female ghost told you her name at all?”

Frank sniffs before shaking his head. “Not personally. But I did have a dream once where she called herself Mary Ellen.” 

Ray nods, makes notes on his legal pad. “And she’s never given you a name for the cat? The one you’ve named Angus?”

Frank shakes his head again.

“They might be unrelated hauntings.” Ray mutters to himself. “Could you describe for us the behavior of the female ghost, Mary Ellen?”

“Well, she usually stays in the spare bedroom at the end of the hall. But, every once in a while, she’ll go into the bathroom, right across the hall. I got out of the shower one time, and saw handprints on the steamed up mirror. Freaked me out a little.”

Gerard steals a glance at Frank, tries to keep from imagining him naked and shaking. Fails.

“Has she ever physically attacked or harmed you?” Ray is still taking notes on his legal pad, full professionalism in place while Gerard is berating himself mentally for having an insta-crush on their client.

“Not physically. But she does scare the dogs. They won’t go into that spare bedroom. Her favorite thing to do is start wailing and banging on things right around 3:14 AM. Has made me late to work several times, cause I couldn’t sleep. She’s more annoying than anything else. I had plans on using that spare room as a studio, but she won’t let me.”

“This sounds like a residual haunting, more than an intelligent haunt.”

“Excuse me?” Frank looks at Ray in confusion.

“An intelligent haunt is when the ghost or ghosts in question will try to communicate with the living, try to get them to hear their story, develop different ways of trying to get their attention. A residual haunt feels more like a song stuck on repeat, the same actions at the same time, with little deviation.”

“Oh.”

Bob’s voice breaks over them both. “Not to worry, he does that ‘textbook’ thing with us too.” And instantly, Frank is giggling, and the professional tension in the room is broken, much to Ray’s obvious uncertainty.

Gerard gets stuck on Frank’s sharp giggle, and doesn’t come back up for air until Ray is standing up, motioning for Bob to hand him a small box-shaped gadget.

It’s time to work.

&

 

The first thing they do is have Frank turn all of the breakers in the house off. This task is quickly delegated to Bob with extensive instruction from Frank, as the breaker box is in the basement, and the basement is apparently a hotbed of spider action, and there is no way Frank is going down there. His cheeks are red as he explains his exorbitant fear of creepy multi-legged creatures crawling all over his skin.

Gerard marvels at this phobia, when he’s so adamant about owning a ghost cat, and decides that it is adorable.

After Bob comes back up to the kitchen, flashlight leading the way, and, at Frank’s request, is checked over for spiders by Ray, the rest of the team is instantly in action. Mikey is setting up the rest of the central command at the kitchen table, connecting wires and cords to the back of their laptop, his hair ridiculous looking with his headlight on. He insists on wearing it though, stating it frees up his hands. Bob runs the extension cord from the table to the top landing of the stairs, meeting the length of cord laid out by Ray from the hallway in front of the spare room. Ray sets up an infrared camera, and the small, round containment device he has perfected over the last two years. He calls it the ghost motel, and it’s usually only used for the ghosts that don’t want, or know how, to cross over themselves. Gerard stands in the kitchen, protecting the coffee machine, and seeing how far he can dig his hands into his back pockets by the light of his own small flashlight. 

Bob constantly persists that they should teach Gerard how to connect, or run, or work some part of their equipment, seems how he is with them on jobs all the fucking time, but so far, no one has actually taught Gerard how to handle anything but carrying a roll of extension cord. He’s fine with hefting the heavy wire, as long as he can stand out of the way and watch his little brother and his friends be ghostbusters. And as long as he can meet hot clients like Frank. Mostly.

He does feel a little superfluous standing around, doing nothing, when Frank comes into the kitchen a while later, with his own flashlight. 

“Hi.” Frank says, raising his hand in a half-wave. “I’m Frank.”

“I know.” Gerard says like a retard. “I mean, hi.” He mentally thumps himself on the forehead. “I mean, I’m Gerard.”

Frank grins with his whole face, lit eerily with the glow of two flashlights. “I know. Hi.”

“Hi.” Gerard can feel his palms sweating in his pockets and takes them out, wipes them on the thighs of his jeans. Puts them back in his pockets just for something to do.

“So. I don’t mean to sound rude.” Frank walks closer, puts his flashlight next to Gerard’s on the counter, pointing up at the ceiling so that everything is cast in weird shadow-light. “But, what is it that you actually do?” Seeming to think that was too rude, Frank corrects himself. “With the haunts and whatnot.”

Gerard swallows hard. “Um. I carry the extension cord?”

Frank’s face tries to smile, but he catches it in time.

“I mean. My little brother, Mikey? He runs the laptop and analyzes the findings, and sometimes, I help him with that. But, I don’t really do this all the time. I own my own comic book store, and I have never seen an animal haunting, and Ray and Bob are my friends, and they let me come along to watch sometimes.” He makes himself shut up. “And carry the extension cord.” He makes himself shut up, again.

Frank can’t catch the giggle that escapes, and Gerard smiles at him, prompting Frank to laugh harder. He nods. “Alright.”

They stand in silence for a few moments, listening to Mikey discuss something with Bob over their walkie-talkies, even though they could probably hear each other from the short distance they are standing apart, while Gerard gathers all of the courage he can find.

“So, what is it that you do?”

Frank turns to him, eyebrows raised. “Oh, I’m a studio musician. I play guitar for bands that need someone to fill in for recording sessions.” He shuffles his bare feet on the tiles, and Gerard watches that for a second before Frank continues, “And I work at Shut Up And Play, this record store on...”

“On Cherry Street?”

“Yeah,” Frank nods.

“Dude, I love that store. It’s close to my place. I’m over on Church, Art Underground?”

“Oh, yeah! I go over there all the time. I’ve never seen you there though.” Frank’s smile is contagious.

To keep from blushing, Gerard quickly changes the subject, “So, you know Patrick then?” 

Nodding, Frank says, “Yeah, isn’t he amazing?”

Gerard nods enthusiastically, “Yeah, like, seven shades of it.”

They stand there, smiling at each other like retards before Mikey’s voice cuts over both of them. “Ray, she’s in the corner, left side.”

Gerard’s eyes light up, “Oh, this is the cool part, come see.” He unconsciously grabs Frank’s wrist, and pulls him toward the table where their equipment is set up. Frank snatches up one of their flashlights on the way out, and Gerard decides to ignore the thumping of his heart, hopes his palm isn’t sweating. 

Mikey is typing something in when they come to a stop behind him, watching the screen. Gerard points with his free hand at the small video player in the upper left corner of the screen. “That’s the real-time display of the room.” He points again, at the bright red figure there. “That’s Ray. The blue and green one here,” his finger shifts, “is the ghost. Mary Ellen.”

They all watch as Ray’s form shrinks, his red knees coming up to rest against his red chest. He’s sitting on the floor, resting his back on the wall, and Gerard knows from experience that Ray has closed his eyes, is talking to the ghost in low, calming tones. The ghost shifts on the screen, and Frank gasps, inaudible, clutches his fingers around Gerard’s, and unthinkingly, Gerard slides his hand down, holds Frank’s.

“That’s incredible,” he whispers, and Gerard nods, cause, yeah.

They can hear Ray’s voice, soft in the room, and the ghost shifts again. Gerard can just make out the shape of a long dress, the material floating slightly.

“She’s beautiful.” Frank says next to him, and Gerard glances at him. Frank catches his eyes and smiles. “It’s almost a shame she has to go.”

Ray’s voice comes over the speakers, a little stronger. “She’s going to take a while. Doesn’t realize.” 

Mikey nods, “Alright, do you want me to send Bob in with the EMF detector?”

The red figure on the screen shakes his head. “Not yet.” Ray’s voice goes back to soft and smooth, and Mikey continues to monitor readings on the screen. 

“This might take a few minutes.” Gerard explains to Frank. “She doesn’t realize that she’s dead, probably why she’s always stayed in the spare bedroom. It was probably her room.”

Frank looks sad for a moment. “I don’t mean to like, kick her out.”

Gerard opens his mouth to say something else, but Mikey looks up at them, his dull headlight shining right in Gerard’s eyes. “Guys? I kinda need to listen to this.”

Blinking rapidly, Gerard nods, tries to head back to the kitchen. Frank takes the lead, steers Gerard away from the wall, shines his flashlight in front of them on the way back towards the coffee machine and Gerard’s flashlight.

“You’re not kicking her out.” Gerard tries to explain once they’re back in the kitchen, hands separated, sadly, and full of coffee mugs. “She deserves to move on to the next part of life. She might have children or parents who are there, wondering where she is. She might be miserable wondering why she’s stuck here, if she doesn’t know that she’s really dead.”

“I didn’t think of it like that.”

Gerard shakes his head. “It’s alright. I just don’t want you to feel guilty for helping her find her way home.”

Frank looks up at him, locks gazes with him for a moment before smiling. “Thanks.”

&

 

“Does it usually take this long?” Frank asks about an hour later. They are both sitting on Frank’s kitchen floor, knees drawn up, side by side.

“Not usually. She must be really confused.”

“I should have called you guys sooner. I just...didn’t know what to do, until Pete told me about you guys and how you can exterminate ghosts.”

“It’s not your fault, remember?”

Frank stops picking at the skin around his thumb, nods. “Yeah.” He taps his toes on the tiles. “I do have a question though.”

“What’s that?”

“Why did they have to shut the breakers off? I want more coffee.”

Gerard laughs before explaining about thermal readings and how electricity causes heat.

“Still sucks though.”

Nodding, Gerard uncrosses his arms, stretches them to his sides, as far as he can. “Yeah.” He makes to bring his arms back before there is a prickling sensation around his right wrist. “What was that?” He freezes.

“Hm?” Frank looks up from examining his thumb. He notices how Gerard’s arm is hanging in the air, the expression on Gerard’s face as he looks at the empty air there. “Oh. That’s Angus.”

“Really?”

Frank nods. “He must like you. He doesn’t usually come out while I have company.” He watches as Gerard brings his left arm back to rest over his knees, flattens his right hand slowly, letting the ghost cat smell him as if it was a real cat standing in front of his hand. Frank smiles.

“I can almost feel his nose.” Gerard whispers. “Oh,” Gerard laughs. “It tickles. Like, prickling, but pressure.”

“Yeah, I figure that’s him butting his head up against your palm. Like demanding a petting.”

Gerard huffs out a laugh. “Yeah. No wonder you wanted to keep him. That’s so cool.” He curls his fingers, searching out the shape of ghost cat ears ready for scritching. A low purr radiates through the air between them, and Gerard looks up at Frank, amazed

“Yeah, he likes you.”

“Got her!” Mikey shouts from the table, and there is a flurry of movement. The purring stops suddenly, and the pressure is gone. 

“He’s gone.” Gerard turns to Frank, surprised. “Did Mikey scare him, or. We’ve never done just one ghost before. You don’t think...”

Frank bites his lip, “I don’t know. I hope... He usually comes when I call him, but I don’t know if he will with all of the commotion.”

Gerard shoots up to his feet. “Mikey.” He charges out to the table, where Mikey is still calculating and typing on the laptop. 

“Hm?”

“How did she leave? Her own accord, or is she in the ghost motel?”

“Ray says she left on her own, why?”

“The ghost cat. We had the ghost cat in the kitchen, and he’s gone now. Did you. Can you see if he’s showing up?”

Mikey shakes his head. “We’d have to get the equipment from upstairs, so it would take a few minutes.”

Frank turns up at Gerard’s side, just shy of wringing his hands together. “Can you guys all, just. Stop for a second, and let me try to call him. I just. I want to be sure that he’s still here.”

Nodding, Mikey relays the message over walkie-talkie, asking Bob and Ray to stop rolling up wires and packing up so that Frank can call the ghost cat. Ray answers back with, “I only felt one entity leave, but alright.”

Practically tripping over his own feet, Frank skids back into the kitchen, dropping to all fours by the counter. Debating for a second whether or not to follow him, Gerard does, dropping down beside him.

“Angus. Kitty-face?” 

Gerard hides his smile as Frank puts one hand in front of him, feeling the air. 

“Kitty, kitty, kitty...”

Glancing at Frank first, Gerard sticks his hand out too, palm facing the counters in front of them, feeling. After a few tense moments, he feels the whisper of a wet nose against his skin, and gasps a laugh. “He’s here. Right here.” Frank’s hand almost runs into Gerard’s, rushing to the place Gerard indicates. 

Frank sobs out a laugh. “Oh, thank god. Angus.” His hand slides through the air, forming the shape of a kitty’s back, gliding over his tail. “He’s all here.” Frank’s smile hits Gerard in the gut, and they’re both laughing. “I knew he liked you.” Frank’s eyes duck down to Gerard’s lips, his tongue darts out to wet his own lips. “That makes two of us.”

Gerard is sure that his grin is blinding in the darkness. “I like him too.” Angus darts away as Mikey’s voice comes from the table, tentatively. 

“Guys, can we finish packing now?”

Smiling with his whole body, Frank answers. “Yeah.”

Gerard’s eyes dart back and forth between Frank’s eyes and lips. “I have a question for you, now.”

“Yeah?” Frank’s eyes are wide and luscious.

“Do ghost cats like treats?”

Frank answers him with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me after watching a marathon of Ghost Hunters on the Syfy channel.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! <3


End file.
